


Outlast Your Heroes

by CatLovelace



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-05-28 04:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatLovelace/pseuds/CatLovelace
Summary: "Oh kiddo," Jack leaned in and ghosted his hot breath across the delicate circuitry of his eye.  The way he licked his lips gave new meaning to the phrase 'make love to the camera'.  "With that fancy tech in your head I sure as shit not going to leave you behind."Rhys pulled back a bit, but was held firm in Jack's vice-like mania."Ever."-Rhys has been working as a programmer for Mt. Massive Asylum's security division.  However when his contraband eye is discovered, he's thrown into the depths of insanity known as Project Walrider.  Now with the facility falling apart around him, Rhys is going to try and escape with his brand new, best frenemy (and fellow escapee 'patient') Jack.Whether he likes it or not.





	1. Don't Blink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpaceCoyote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCoyote/gifts), [PoisonJack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonJack/gifts).



> For SpaceCoyote's birthday month  
> and  
> PoisonJack
> 
> You're both champions of the Rhack industry.

His luck, both good and bad, could only take him so far. The rest of the way Rhys would rely on fast wit, his charm, and the help of his friends. It was the negative former that landed him performing IT support at Mount Massive Asylum. It was both that kept him alive.

Every day he passed through at least two levels of security just to get to his desk. One badge and a fingerprint scanner. Plus handing over his phone to the front desk, signing onto his desktop computer with a new password everyday, and a retinal scanner to take the lift further down than the ground floor.

He always tried to stay on the ground floor.

For the first three years, the Murkoff Corporation and he seemed to be in agreement. Today that agreement was over.

"But why R&D?" Rhys demanded. Vasquez shifted, royally bored in his seat. Only someone of his pompousness could make a standard office chair into a throne.

"Well the boss and I were chatting recently - the ol' two martini lunch and all that - I may have dropped your name. No need to thank me."

Rhys felt his blood boil as he packed up his messenger bag for the trip down. His desk would still be up here, but it might be a long time before he'll see it again. Or sunlight.

The secretary from the front desk was waiting by the lift. He hated that he couldn't tell if her expression was more pitying or disinterested.

"We're going to update your retinal scan since you're going to be working downstairs." She slid a panel open. "And I'm going to need your palm here please."

He sighed before watching as it scanned and recorded his vascular system. He leaned into the retinal scanner when he caught the secretary giving him a curious expression.

"Sorry, but why not your blue eye? That would be so pretty to have on record."

"Old habits, I guess." He finished with an awkward laugh. He could just hear Vaughn reminding him again that if his ECHOeye were discovered he was dead in the water. Rhys had too many close calls as it was. He saw the guy at the desk next to his disappear for taking a selfie...

 

Down, down, further down he descended into the bowels of the place. The screams of patients increased in pitch and intensity with only the metal lattice separating him from those who wanted to make him into a skin pizza.

He gulped, tugging the messanger bag to him as a meager shield. The doors finally 'pinged' open. A well armed man stepped forward.

"New meat?"

"Please tell me that's lower level slang for IT support."

"Heh. Sure." Mr. Ominous With A Gun cocked his head across the hall to some steel doors. Rhys walked ahead.

"Soo... been working here long?"

"Stop talking."

"Just want to get to know my coworkers." Mr. Gun sighed deeply. He summoned the lift with his ID card.

"Look you don't seem like a complete jerk. Clearly an absolute tool, but that shouldn't get you in trouble. Probably. But asking questions? Don't do that. Head down and suck up." The lift doors quietly opened up.

"You're here to replace some guy so try and last longer than him." The stainless steel box began to descend. Rhys ran his prosthetic hand through his hair nervously.

"How long did the other guy last?"

"You're really not learning your lesson."

Rhys helpfully smiled at his unimpressed expression.

Sigh "Park lasted two weeks." He could pull that off. He put up with Vasquez for three years. Six months as his egotistical manager. Downstairs with some paranoid, self-important R&D guys should be a breeze comparatively.

"Shortest record is a day. Beat that and I'll be impressed."

"Thanks." Rhys said with all the dour sarcasm he could. The doors opened and he found himself... Somewhere.

The walls were polished white stone. Exposed metal piping ran down long hallways. A metal front desk with a stern looking man. Everyone was either in heavy duty kevlar or full hazmat suits.

"Come on." He was pushed forward by Mr. Gun Possibly Friend. Rhys learned part of his lesson. Head down. Looking at his boots through the long hallways, sudden turns, and finally a decontamination chamber that nearly choked him with green gas.

"Thank you Mr. Axton!" A confidant man stepped forward. Rhys looked up to see his slicked back hair and several scientists flinch as he strolled by. "Thanks for making sure Mr... you know what? Let's stick to Rhys shall we? Keep it informal. I'm Jeremy Blair!" He clamped a hand down onto his newest employee's shoulder. "And you're here to make the Murkoff Corporation dream a reality."

He was pushed down into a chair before a large window.

"Just remember two things. Make us money and this project must be kept absolutely secret." He smiled. All teeth.

"Yes- yes sir." Rhys stuttered out.

"Good. Good." Mr. Blair absently said. He wasn't looking at him. Rhys followed his line of sight.

A giant chambered echoed out before him beyond the glass. Large screens were perched all around the middle. Human sized see-through spheres were placed before each screen.

Only one screen was on.

Flashing images and static. Someone was strapped inside a sphere. Tubes and wires intricately wrapped all over the restrained body. Sometimes it occasionally twitched.

"Beautiful. This goes well and Murkoff will net a windfall from this. All thanks to that little angel in there. Out best hope."

Rhys was about to ask a question, because he lived dangerously like that, when the lights flickered.

"Sir. CL4P-TP safety routines are offline. Should we stop the Engine from running?"

The scientist was slapped to the ground as soon as he asked. No one looked at the interaction. Several people instinctually rolled their chairs away.

"-Warning. Morphogenic Engine activity reaching 20%-"

"Gentlemen we're about to each a horizon. Let's see what's beyond it!" He clapped his hands together as Rhys felt his eye spark.

"Ahh!" He gripped over it.

"Is there a problem Rhys?"

"No sir. J-just a headache." But Mr. Blair leaned in closer.

"Lift your hand."

"I-" His hand was ripped from his face. Several security officers hand moved in to surround him. Including Mr. Gun Now Probably Disappointed.

"Looks like someone decided to be a bad boy. Tsk tsk." Mr. Blair shook his head. The figure in the sphere began to moan in pain. The electricity continued to flick in and out. "I must say I'm rather disappointed. I bet your seat isn't even warm yet."

One of the officers socked him across the face. "But I am impressed at your bravery. More so at your dedication to science. Though such single-mindedness is... well that's just crazy." Mr. Blair turned to the officers.  
"You heard him volunteer to the Morphogenic Engine Program?"

"That I did Mr. Blair." They intoned.

"Two volunteers in one day."

"Very exciting Mr. Blair." A fist was rammed into Rhys' stomach and he tasted blood. Mr. Blair leaned in. Smug and disappointed. His final whispers as Rhys was pulled into darkness. Well he beat the record on shortest time.

"I'm curious what your eyes will see. Can you witness the Walrider?" And the figure in the sphere began to cry.

 

Blearily he rolled his head around as much as the restraints would let him. His remaining arm and legs were strapped down tight. His Adam's apple bobbed against the choker. He breathed through some tubes. Apparently there was a shortage of urethral tubes so he was instructed to be a 'big boy' and hold it for a few days.

Rhys wished he had the strength to spit in the creep's eye.

The screens never stopped. Never-ending images of flashing Rorschach blobs.

Incessantly they pounded against his eyes. Rhys felt his brain thrum and pulse. His fucking skull bouncing back against the movement. Every gyrus and sulcus felt itchy. Cotton were white matter should be. He couldn't hear himself scream and babble over his blood rattling in his body.

"Disassemble me! Disassemble me! Disassemble me and never put me back together!" He heard through the daze. Rhys shouted through his soft teeth. They vibrated in his jagged glass gums.

Where was his arm? Where was his arm? Where was his arm? Was it with his mind?

The power went out and he was thrown from the chair. He gasped and crawled around on the floor. The images kept flashing before his eyes, in his mind, on their own.

"Efficient. Efficient with insects like me. The world is composed of bug carcasses." Small blessings for him that he finally stopped screaming.

His legs shook beneath him. In a haze he tried to pry the door open. Either side of his clear cell was painted top to bottom in a rich shade of blood. It was blood. And viscera. And torn skin.

His sweaty fingers clung and dug at the hermetic sealing. They slid over each other and the seam without purchase.

"Here's another kitten." A patient stood outside the door. He had cracked teeth and skin that looked like it was made of old clay. "Will you purr for me?"

The red emergency lights reflected off the man's eyes in a way human eyes were definitely not supposed to. Even gripped in his delirium and limited knowledge Rhys recognized symptom one of prolonged exposure to the Morphogenic Engine.

Rhys continued pawing at the door. His mind warning with itself. Keep clawing with some far hope of escaping or slowly back away from this madman?

The choice was taken from him as the man walked away to 'let his kitten kitty kitten out'.

Once the door lock was released Rhys bolted. Scrambling down the hall and away. Mad flashes continued to bounce and scramble his brain while he found himself bouncing and slamming into walls.

A 'wall' gave away and his jaw ricocheted off tile floor. He lay panting, rubbing his sore mandible, and gathering his bearings.

This was impossible. This wasn't happening. Rhys threw himself into the corner. Hyperventilating as the door opened.

"Man those tubes suck!" The guy looked... pretty normal actually. Broad shoulders. Jaw cut from stone. Gorgeous heterochromic eyes.

Okay maybe normal would be inaccurate to condescending to describe him. Rhys stayed pressed into the corner. Handsome ambled over to a stall and yanked down the front of his pants.

"Oh, yeah. Nothing like a man being able to grab his own massive-" He trailed off as he caught sight of Rhys lurking in the corner.

"Eh heh. Hi." Rhys awkwardly gave a grin and a wave. Right before his face was slammed into the wall. "Okay! Ow ow ow!"

"Got a look at the goods, ya sick perv?" The man demanded through his teeth. Sharp canines glinting in the red light.

"I didn't see anything!"

"Sorry for the disappointment princess."

Rhys' arm was being twisted and twisted and twisted further still.

"I wasn't trying to look!" He began to push back as his mind returned. "Stop it, you're hurting me!" This enraged the handsome man even more.

"What my family jewels not good enough?" The man dug his thick fingers further into the fabric of Rhys' skull. A howling in the distance grew louder. With a snarl the man ripped Rhys' face away from the wall then went to slam it again.

Before his face was shattered against the sticky tile Rhys was dropped entirely. Three cheers for small victories. At home it was finally beating Vaughn's high score. Here it was not having his face crushed like an egg. He could still feel the man's body head radiating behind him.

Rhys made a fist then spun around.

Handsome But Dangerous wasn't looking at him. Just cocking his head back and forth like he was listening for something. Rhys looked up. He felt the blood drain from his face face as there was something floating about the room. His eye sparked to life as something came into focus.

It looked like the silhouetted idea of a person. A shadow that had consumed other shadows that were now trying to escape.

"What is that?!" Rhys pointed a shakey finger as the dark ghost phased through the wall and away. The other man followed his line of sight, but his expression clearly said, 'you're the only resident of Crazy Town here, ya little psycho.'

"Are you really trying to tell me that you can see... wait a minute..." He stepped closer. The light from Rhys' eye shown back at him stronger as he invaded his personal space again.

His eyelids were pinched opened as the older man peered into the blue light. Rhys could taste the man's breath in his mouth.

"It's nothing. Just my ECHOeye."

"What's it do?"

"Helps me see." He responded tartly.

"Smartass." Handsome wapped him across the head.

"I mean like it does night vision and helps me scan code faster." Rhys was in for a penny and a pound of flesh. "It can zoom and, well, it's always recording." He pulled back the false patch of skin on his left temple. "I can pull the data I have from here."

As he spoke and covered his port again, the other man slowly let a toothy smile carve across his face.

"Got a name, kiddo?" He stopped pinching, but never dropped his hand from the younger man's face. "Also, want to take this place down? Don't answer that one. I already know it's yes."

"It's," He swallowed and the man's bright eyes devoured the movement. "It's Rhys." He slowly slid towards the door. "I'm just gonna... go now. Sorry again for earlier?"

He pulled the door open, not taking his eyes off the older man. Out of the corner of his vision, Rhys saw some escaped patients operating on an awake doctor.

His remaining hand just barely avoided being crushed as the door was slammed closed again.

"Woah, woah, woah! Where do you think you're going, kid?"

"Escaping."

"Ha! Whew that's funny." He slapped his knee. "Yeah, you'll be killed in two seconds on your own."

"Hey! I survived this long."

"Congrats to your hot streak, but let's be real here." Handsome, but Threatening wrapped a conspiratorial arm around his shoulders. Casually leaning on him like they were relaxing on a day out and not in a men's water closet in the mid-levels of an insane asylum going tits up.

"To survive this place, a damsel like you is going to need a hero." He puffed out his chest. "Feel free to say thank you anytime."

"Thank you?" Rhys was more confused than ever.

"You're welcome!" The man's voice bright. Blue and red lights unnaturally shining off his eyes. His smile turned more predatory. "Oh and call me Jack. Handsome Jack if ya nasty."


	2. Through Wonderland’s Möbius Strip

Rhys had always possessed a rather sensitive stomach. Moving too quickly, flying on an airplane, or even a particularly strong smell could have him upheaving his lunch. Vaughn’s shoes had learned the hard way and now the apartment they shared had a “movies with graphic content while Rhys is in unless you want your inserts ruined again bro” ban.

Now as he was led through corridors and levels of the insane, Rhys felt his nausea control being pushed to its limits.

“Honestly cupcake it wasn’t even that bad. It was group of nutjobs sitting at a table.” Yeah and drinking from the severed decaying heads of their dead fellows. They even had their pinkies extended to really set off the tea party of the damned vibe.

True to his word Jack had kept Rhys safe for the most part. Unless he found the situation hilarious, which happened quite a bit. When this happened Rhys found himself desperately trying to flee or hide from someone manically screaming about how his smooth and soft skin looked _perfect _for carving off.__

When Jack finally had his fun he would snap the neck of Rhys’ pursuer then tell him “Chop chop, buttercup.”

He had no idea how long they had been going through the world’s bloodiest funhouse. Adrenaline and Jack kept Rhys moving. Coupled together with the exhaustion his mind was one frayed nerve and his heart beat strained.

“You look ready to crap out there Rhysie.” Miraculously Jack had stopped to wait for him by some elevator doors in an auxiliary building on the property. It was exclusively for scientists and they (Jack) plucked an ID card from one who had hung himself inside a decontamination chamber. “Come on, hero's aren’t known for their patience.”

Rhys thought about arguing under the bone deep weariness, but it was swiftly eclipsed by the thought that beyond those doors was a miraculous lift to take them up and out of this place. Rhys took the badge from Jack.

“Uh… kiddo about the lift...”

“Unless it’s about the lift being broken I really don’t want to hear it, Jack.” He groused.

“Handsome Jack.”

“You said I only had to say that if I was ‘nasty’.”

“And here I hold out hope. Besides a triumphant rescuer like myself deserves a little recognition from a little murdering psycho like you.”

Rhys tiredly tapped the ID card. “None of what you just assumed about me is true.” There was a small chime as the elevator came online.

Then plummeted with two screaming scientists inside. Jack shifted slightly to the right revealing a sign warning people not to use the elevator. Rhys listened to him howl like a jackal at the sight of his face. Jack smugly curled around his shoulders and sing-song whispered.

“Handsome Jack?~”

Rhys groaned. “Can we just go now?” The other man didn’t move. “Handsome Jack.” Utterly elated Jack followed with a spring in his step.

“Now that’s the kind of kiss assing I like!”

“There’s a kind you don’t like?” Rhys rolled his eyes before Jack could catch up.

“Oh yeah, Rhysie.” He meandered with his hands in his pockets. “There’s a definite art form to it.” He continued to regale on the subtly and why he deserved it. Rhys gave an occasional hum in response.

So that elevator had been a bust, but maybe if they rerouted power they could take the central lift. Or maybe unlock the stairs and reach the front desk. Maybe his mobile was still there and they could call for help. Or maybe there was a release for the front doors.

“Hey!” Jack snapped his fingers in front of the younger man’s face. “You ignoring me, cupcake?” There was an edge to his tone. Rhys stepped back.

“It wasn’t personal Jack. I- I mean we need to think of a way out of here.” He held up his hand, hoping logic would placate the older man. Jack sized him up and down for a moment. He jabbed a ‘I’m watching you’ hand gesture before brushing past Rhys. He picked up his ass-kissing lecture right where he left off.

“Enthusiasm is key, but too much and you go from ass-kissing to begging for an ass-kicking.” Rhys followed shortly after. Nodding or giving a thoughtful hum if Jack looked at him, but Rhys’ mind was still on escaping this place. Maybe they could climb a guard tower then shimmy down the outer gate. Maybe Rhys could find a radio up there too?

“You and I should ride tandem meat-cycles!” Oh no. Rhys looked down the hallway to see a tall man wielding a buzz axe. Another clear Varient patient from the Engine. Also, apparently had been doing crunches in the womb by the state of his abs.

“The hell did he just say?” Jack asked, hands stopped mid-gesture. Rhys shook his head while his eyes madly tried to find an escape.

“Friendly blood feelings!” The new man shrieked. Rhys and Jack shared a look.

“We should leave.” Rhys suggested quietly.

“And what, get a translator?” Jack was looking over the nonsensical patient with open disgust.

“I mean escape the guy with the buzzsaw!”

“I know right? Who does he think he is – my grandma?”

“Ja-” Rhys gripped the other man by the shoulders. He pointedly ignored the whirring blades sounding closer. “Handsome Jack! Please save me!” A megawatt grin and some pre-brawl knuckle cracking was his answer.

“Fart knocker!” The man leapt the rest of the way. He swung the buzzsaw down hard. Jack knocked it to the side then kneed his attacker in the groin. The weapon spun towards Rhys pitifully as he took in… stuff that was stuck between the sharp bits.

“Krieg pet!” Either the man (Krieg possibly?) being slammed into the wall was reaching for his bloody axe or Rhys. Jack had him pinned like he did to Rhys when they met.

“Hey cupcake bring it here. I have a funny idea.” The face looking at Rhys was wicked and blissful. Slowly Rhys reached down and wrapped his hand around where someone had scratched MANERA. He couldn’t pick it up fully, even with all his might. While Jack continued to try and break into the guy’s skull Rhys was dragging over the _heaviest _thing he had ever touched in his life.__

“Sometime today, kiddo.” Jack rolled his eyes as Rhys finally lugged the thing over and was panting with exertion. “Gyms are still a thing on the outside, right?” When he had finally sucked enough air into his burning lungs, Rhys opened his mouth in time for two things to happen.

Their attacker finally threw Jack off and spun around to return the favour that had been done to his now-cracked-gas mask clad face - with his bruising fist. Jack pulling Rhys into the line of impact.

Rhys spun and hit the floor hard. He braced himself back up on his forearms.

“Is there something about my face that screams ‘hit me’!?”

“Kinda!” Jack called as he ducked and weaved between attacks. At Rhys’ pout, Jack looked indigent. “Hey it was your face or mine! I think we can both agree what a loss that would be.” He got two sharp hits into his opponent’s jaw. “Could use a hand here! Also, how’s the eye?”

“Which one?”

“The important one.” He said unapologetically as he dodged another swing of the buzzsaw.

“Like what?” Rhys had just got back on his feet.

“Anything!” Jack kicked the Varient’s left knee so hard Rhys heard something shatter. This just had the man howling louder for Jack’s blood. Rhys didn’t see anything in the hallway so he dove through the double doors leading into some kind of workshop.

Stacks and stacks of dusty tables, blackboards, defunct looking sewing machines and some very creepy mannequins. One had pearls around its neck and a rolling pin tied to its hand. The mannequin next to it had a tie on while wielding a plastic spork and knife.

Rhys pulled the taped knife off easily then sawed the hefty looking rolling pin free. Somewhere over his shoulder Rhys heard Jack yell ‘come on cupcake!’ He threw the last of the rope off then gripped his new weapon tight in his trembling fingers. Rhys sprinted back through the double doors he saw Jack starting to lose ground. He had to help. Rhys raised the rolling pin high and with more confidence than he felt, Rhys charged forward.

“Darling!~” An overjoyed man said as he scooped Rhys up bridal style. Rhys was this close to snapping or passing out from all this whiplash.

“Jack there’s another one!” A large slap reverberated out in the hallway.

“Are you kidding me!?” Jack called to him. Rhys struggled against his latest captor’s grip. His remaining arm and the rolling pin was pinned against his body and the adoring man’s vested chest.

“Were you going to make a me a pie, dearheart?” The man rubbed his bloody cheek against Rhys’. “You really do spoil me. However at the moment I possess a different appetite.” His hungry eyes devoured Rhys’ entire person. He began to wriggle and flail with more earnest.

“No no no! Jack!” Rhys kicked out and called back over to the hallway.

“No no heart of hearts. Is your silly little woman mind acting up again?” His captor cooed as he continued to spirit him away. “Your beloved groom’s name is Eddie. Eddie love.”

As they were strolling through a gymnasium, Rhys ripped his arm free and swung it at the sick fuck’s face. It barely seemed to hurt him. The groom’s head slowly swiveled back down at Rhys was with glowing eyes. He blew air from his nose like Rhys was just being _impossible _at the moment. His cheery voice took on an edge.__

“You really don’t seem appreciate my efforts to make you into an honest woman.” Eddie’s grip retightened on Rhys. His jagged nails pierced through the jumpsuit. Little welts of blood began to crop up.

Something wet dripped down and slithered across Rhys’ forehead. He looked up past and up. Attached to tense wires and splayed out like an art piece were countless, mutilated bodies. A serial killer’s Sistine Chapel.

“Don’t be like all the others.” The groom warned. He tilted Rhys’ head till his distorted face was all he saw. “I have my flaws. I do. I can be vulgar, but it’s nothing a good wife and some children can’t fix.” His expressions kept flickering about from disappointed to resentment to humble sorrow to landing on a smile that was pure rapture. Eddie pet a few stray hairs from Rhys’ face lovingly.

“After all… it is till death do we part.”

“And yours is happening right now!” His chest felt like bursting from the sheer warm relief that filled Rhys in that moment. Jack was charging at them. “So piss off and get your own, Bluebeard!”

“You will not deny me my bride!” Eddie roared back in retaliation. He dumped Rhys and swung his full body force at Jack.

However they both missed as Jack swung the buzzsaw too high. Eddie’s fist sailed over Jack’s right shoulder. Rhys fell onto a section of the cables, bouncing as the taut potential energy was tested. His arm had slid between two of the cables and stayed wedged. He pulled and pulled at it while the other two men traded near hits.

“Dynamite for candy canes!” Krieg appeared, ripping a door off its hinges. He definitely looked worse from his fight with Jack earlier.

“Shut it or I’m shoving some down your throat, pal!” Jack hollered as he swung his weapon down. The spinning metal teeth tore through some of the rigged cables. They snapped free and sent a line of corpses flying through the upper windows of the gym. Hysterically for a moment Rhys thought “Oh it’s raining men.”

“You whores!” The groom roared. He leapt and tackled Krieg to the ground. Jack was looking between the busted window and Rhys. Something must have clicked because his manic grin was back in full force.

“Idea!” He lifted the buzzsaw up high. “Hold on tight, Rhysie!” Rhys grabbed onto a cable out of reflexive fear.

“Wait no! What are you doing?” In the next second his cables were cleaved then Rhys was flying through the air. Accompanied by a brigade of dickless men. The last thing he saw as he was thrown through the broken window was Eddie and Krieg strangling each other and Jack salute before cutting into more of the delicate rigging.

Rhys and the corpse company were lobbed through the air in a rich arc of hang time. Loud thunder and Rhys screaming his lungs out resonated out into the night.

Finally, gravity took cruel pity on him. Forcing the poor man to the hit the ground and roll up into a fountain filled with blood. He pulled himself up and gripped the edge of the fountain like a lifeline. Rhys panted raggedly and didn’t focus on anything with his trembling vision.

Jack landed nearby on some grass, buzzsaw no where to be found. He stood and dusted himself off. He offered Rhys a breathless laugh and a smile.

“Hadn’t had that much fun in a long time like that, huh, pumpkin?” It wasn’t really a question, just Jack trying to fill the space with his voice. In that space though Rhys finally found something that coiled a cold fire in his belly and brought the edges of himself into focus. Rhys had found his rage.

“Fun?! Really Jack? We’re going to call this nightmare fun?” Rhys ignored the urge to vomit from the tilting vertigo and the fact he was literally soaked head to toe in diluted blood from the fountain. “Because that’s what this is – a goddamn nightmare!”

“Watch it kiddo. I wouldn’t be saying shit to the guy who keeps saving your worthless ass.” Rhys barked a laugh.

“Half of the time you encouraged people to eat me! Or punch me!” He pointed to the purpling bruise on his cheek. The wind picked up and howled. “And another thing! Stop calling me kiddo! You’re as bad as all the psychos in here!”

Jack fisted the front of his jumpsuit and lifted him up. Rhys stared him down.

“I’d start singing a different tune if I were you. Think we can both agree that’s no way to talk to the goddamn hero of your life.”

“Face it Jack. You’re not anyone’s hero. You’re a crazy asshole.” He pushed Jack away and looked him with utter venom in his eyes. The howling grew louder and closer.

“What did you just say?” Jack asked. He was looking Rhys over like he was debating which bone to break first.

Rhys’ eye flickered to life. Oh no no no. His luck couldn’t be that bad. Not again. Not so soon.

“Jack! Jack, I think that thing is back!” Rhys recognized a pattern and spun around trying to find where the dark ghost was coming from then run the opposite way.

“We’re not done here!" Jack didn’t seem to pay their situation any mind. Several inmates stormed past them like rats fleeing a sinking ship. From the deep shadows of the courtyard, something was flickering into shape.

“Jack, we have to go now!” Rhys gripped the other man’s muscular bicep and tried to propel him into motion. But Jack remained statuesque.

“When I say we’re not done here I mean _we’re not done here, Rhysie _.” Jack gripped Rhys’ fingers so tight they started to pop under the pressure. “I’m starting to get a lack of gratitude coming from you. Which, ah how to put it, ain’t gonna fly!”__

“Let go! You’re hurting me!” Which was scarier at the moment, the ghost of friggin’ Slenderman or the attractive, unstable man right in front of him? “This isn’t the time for this! Are you actually crazy!?”

Rhys ripped his fingers free. As he looked up at the specter hovering above Jack and his thunderous expression, Rhys realized a fundamental fact of the universe. He was straight up fucked.

 

 

To be honest, Rhys wasn’t really there for a while. He was unfortunately there when Jack had knocked the right side of his face in and wrapped large hands around his throat. He left sometime as the nightmare fueled cloud seemed to be repelled from Jack’s person then dissipate. He felt himself being rocked after that like a stone being turned over in someone’s palm.

When he came back, Rhys was was welcomed by a spray of ice cold water.

“There he is!” Jack’s delighted voice came from above. “You were really out of it after those guys beat the friggin’ crap out of you, buddy.” He didn’t remember that.

“I don’t remember that.”

“Course you don’t. I’m pretty sure they beat your skull in.” Jack casually turned the knob so the water even colder. Rhys sputtered and shook some of the pounding water from his aching head. “Was quite the hassle to beat them off.”

He turned the knob back to only slightly cold. Rhys pushed himself up to stand, but still didn’t escape the water hitting him.

“Why not just let them kill me then?” Jack smiled like he was simple.

“Because you and I are a team. I always look out for my team.” The water was even warmer now. “Out of this whole decaying craphole, you’re the only one worth two shits. Besides me, or does that go without saying?”

Rhys felt his world shift off kilter again. His memory was definitely of Jack trying to kill him, but that definite was growing fuzzy. Between the images still flashing across his vision to Jack’s voice echoing god-like off the tiles surrounding him. Rhys was running short of lifelines.

“Ah my special boy, you’re all confused.” Jack slowly turned the knob till Rhys was shivering under cold water again. “You sound like you’re doubting me. Which would be… crazy.”

“Why- why not just leave me then?” Rhys tried to piece through his words. The knob was thrown all the way over till it burned his chest and crotch. Jack joined him in the shower. Somehow he was even more handsome looking over him dangerously.

“Oh kiddo,” Jack leaned in and ghosted his hot breath across the delicate circuitry of his eye. The way he licked his lips gave new meaning to the phrase ‘make love to the camera’. “With that fancy tech in your head I sure as shit not going to leave you behind.”

Rhys pulled back a bit, but was held firm in Jack’s vice-like mania.

“Ever.” He said, dark and delighted. The younger, barely holding onto his flimsy perception of reality, man reminded his hind brain that it really should be as excited as it was.

His off kilter world was crumbling into an abyss consisting of only Jack and his confident smile. Rhys tipped forward.

“Can we get out of the shower now, please Handsome Jack?” He asked into a small voice. The god like laugh vibrated his bones.

“Oh course, pumpkin. I’ll lead the way.” He promised. He pushed Rhys in front of him, but never peeled his hands from his lower back. Jack rubbed small circles. Rhys swayed with the motion a bit even as his senses returned to solid ground. His damp hair was given a little pat.

“Man, if these walls could talk, am I right Rhysie?” Jack hummed with a conspiratory shove to his shoulder. “Course I am! Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t keep their mouths shut!”

They had walked from grimy, blood soaked shower rooms to mould-covered and cracked concrete paddocks. Someone, bound tight in a straitjacket was speaking in low, questioning tones to the other inmates still trapped inside their cells.

Jack pushed past them them all till they reached a solid looking door hidden in a dark corner. He wrenched it open easily with one hand.

It was… the cleanest thing Rhys had seen in hours. Dull, grey walls. A large cot with straps on it. Several trolleys covered in medical instruments. Several machines gathering dust.

“And you want to know the best part?” Jack propped his head on Rhys’ shoulder. The straitjacket person had finally wandered up to their door. The only exposed part of his anatomy was his mouth, which looked like someone tried to beat out his teeth from the inside.

“Do...you...have...an...itch?” He asked quietly. Jack slammed a bar over the door’s window and the room was plunged into absolute silence.

“Much better.” He popped his neck. “Just what the probably all vivisected doctors ordered. Some peace and quiet, eh Rhysie?”

‘Rhysie’ longed for half of that statement. He longed for the peace of his shared apartment with Vaughn. To arguing about the chore wheel. Or something else completely stupid.

Rhys wanted the peace of being naive again. Of thinking he knew the world’s ins and outs. Of the worst thing in his life being when Fiona had asked if he and Vaughn were too old to be saying bro so much, unironically. The answer had been easy, but the betrayal of having even been _asked _? Forever.__

“It’s nice.” Is all he could think to say.

“Yeah it is.” Jack pat his shoulder absently as he walked past. As he idly inspected and played with the gadgets and machines, Rhys felt the adrenaline edge out of his system. The room itself maybe a sound proof torture chamber, but that bed looked so inviting at the moment.

It’s stiff and creaky as Rhys laid himself down. He didn't feel safe as he took deep breaths, but with Jack being the only possible threat, he still found the tension of his body ease.

He stared straight up and tried to read what looked like gibberish painted in blood on the ceiling.

alb vnde l elbelin  
Ir sult nich beng’ bliben  
hin  
albes svestir vn vatir  
Ir sult uz varen obir de  
gatir  
albes mutir trute vn  
mar  
Ir sult uz zu de virste  
vare  
Noc mich dy mare  
druche  
Noc mich dy trute  
zciche  
Noc mich dy mare rite  
Noc mich dy mare  
bescrite  
Alb mit diner crummen  
nasen  
Ich vorbithe dir  
aneblasen

“Superstitious idiots.” Jack was looking at the words. A Wartenberg wheel spinning casually between his fingers. “Like a bit of blood ruining the fung shui of the place is going to protect anyone.” His eyes look far away and murderous.

“No on is safe. No one is exempt.” He spits out before snapping the spinning tool in half and throwing it back onto the trolley.

“Yeah.” Rhys adds his two cents. He’s thrown his flesh arm over his face. He breaths deep and uneasy as he waits for sleep to come. Either he’ll die in his sleep or he won’t. Right now either would work.

“Nap time already, kiddo?” is called from somewhere beyond Rhys’ arm, sounding utterly amused. Jack has new toys to occupy his time. He’ll be fine. Rhys will be fine.

“Oh Rhysie~” Jack’s sing song voice came from above. Rhys took a deep breath and remained resting. He needed a break and Jack didn’t need his attention. “Aw I didn’t know you liked surprises.” He liked what now?

Rhys cracked an eye open just in time to see Jack looming over with a wicked grin. He held a clear mask with a tube attached. He waggled it in time with his eyebrows.

“Take another deep breath, baby” Jack said delighted as he quickly suctioned it to Rhys’ face. He smiled when Rhys began to pry and claw against him. “Hold on there, buddy. I know you’re excited, but just give me a second to start it up.” Jack leaned over to twist the valve on a very large canister, easily keeping the mask in place.

Rhys tried to roll over or shake the older man off, but Jack had _all the muscle _against him. Terrified he watched with wide eyes as pink gas kind of slithered through the tube towards him. According to the gauge this canister was completely full and ready to go. Oh goodie, Rhys thought hysterically, I’m completely fucked again!__

When the gas began to fill his lungs Rhys felt like he was drowning.

It burned his alveoli and turned his lungs inside out. He couldn’t cough. His arm was pinned above his head. Rhys was forced to suck in another breath then… he began to float.

His eyelids, his internal organs, his limbs were all too heavy so Rhys floated up and away. Jack stopped him from leaving. He pouted. He just wanted to go home.

A warm chuckle reverberated through him.

“Oh ho! Looks like my special boy is starting to feel better.” Jack pinched Rhys’ nose till some of the small vessels popped and blood bubbled out. “Huh, pal?”

“We’re not safe.” Rhys said cheerily. His breath mixing curiously with the gas.

“None of that.” Jack moved to grip his jaw. “What did I say about doubting me?” Rhys must have flown too high because for a quick second he felt very, very cold.

“Crazy?” He murmured while trying very hard to remember something. The chill drenching his bones faded as Jack, hummed his approval.

“That’s right. Like those chuckle fucks running around out there. And you’re better than that, right Rhysie? Stick with me and you’ll have all the worth in the world.”

When he sucked in another breath, Rhys’ fingers tingled like he was passing through a cloud. His head flopped over to watch Jack peck kisses on each knuckle on his flesh hand intertwined with his much larger one.

“Now what to do?” Jack asked himself. Rhys licked at the delicate stream of his nose bleed. “Good idea cupcake! That was by far the least sexy thing I have ever seen.” Jack snapped off a bed-strap and attached it to a hook on the ceiling. Rhys felt old leather cinch tightly to his wrist. He almost came back down, but another gulp sent him soaring again.

Jack leaned back to watch Rhys lackadaisically sway with and against his restrained arm above him. “Let’s fix that shall we? Don’t answer that, I know the answer is yes.”

“Why ask then?” Rhys sounded far away from himself.

“I think you underestimate how much I enjoy hearing myself talk, Rhysie.” He peeled off the top of his jumpsuit. His hairy chest looked coarse and warm. “Have you heard my voice? It’s like sex appeal itself was given a megaphone.”

Rhys smiled further at that. Swaying more to try and rest his heavy head on Jack’s solid chest. “Mmm. It’s is.” He was more than happy to agree with the older man. The gas began to prickle his skin. Rhys tugged at his arm, but it remained stubbornly put. For some reason he couldn’t even feel his right one.

Dazedly he looked down and saw it was missing. Rhys remembered his teeth though and tried tearing at the jumpsuit’s collar. Through the mask. Before he could even displace a thread a strong hand lifted him away.

“Babe, you look beyond stupid doing that.” Despite the derisive tone Jack gently took off his happy mask and traced his thumb over Rhys’ bottom lip. “Let’s put that mouth of yours on something much better?”

He slipped his hand around to curl the hairs on the nape of Rhys’ neck. Jack slotted himself closer within the negative space between their bodies. He sucked up some pink gas as it escaped Rhys’ slack lips. Rhys watched him through his eyelashes. He could still taste the blood on his tongue, but he whined as the gaseous flavour became more muted on his tongue.

It and another delectable smell was just beyond him. Rhys rocked back into the hand on his neck. It stiffened and secured his skull further into its palm. Rhys rocked forward sliding his mouth along Jack’s. The taste he sought was so much better here than between his own teeth.

He moaned as he sucked more remnants of gas back into his body. Jack’s other hand traced slowly, too slowly down his body. He thumbed the zipper on Rhy’s jumpsuit. Then even more slowly pulled it down exposing his sweaty chest to the cold air.

Rhys whimpered as his nipples hardened. He could no longer taste any gas, but Jack’s (because what else could this wonderful bouquet of musk be) taste and smell more than made up for the loss. Jack slid his own shoulders free of his blood-stained suit out with a shrug. Rhys felt terribly overdressed and itchy.

“This isn’t bad look for you sweetheart.” Jack’s huskier voice said as he forced Rhys to catch his breath. “I can just imagine you wrapped up in a straitjacket like a present for me.” Both he and Rhys moaned at the thought. Right in that moment being horribly bound and being a subject to Jack’s erratic whims sounded like the most delicious thought.

Rhys eventually wiggled one shoulder free, but his bound arm wouldn’t slide down through the sleeve.

“There there, baby boy. Daddy’s got ya.” He nipped and sucked on Rhys’ lower lip. He lifted Rhys up easily and pulled the rest of his body, apart from the arm, free. The sensations, _oh the sensations _. Rhys was lost within them all.__

Jack pulled him back down and into his lap. The whole jumpsuit hung off Rhys’ arm limp and heavy. He was about to demand that either Jack tear off the outfit or his arm when Jack decided to practically eat his throat.

He dragged his upper teeth up and down Rhys’ carotid artery then sucked the stinging pain he caused away. Jack harshly bit into the middle of the younger man’s tattoo. He licked and sucked and chewed and nipped all the way around and down to the juncture where his where his throat and shoulder met.

Rhys felt Jack’s fingers bruise and dig in between his ribs, reopening the welts Eddie left earlier. Moaning, Rhys arched his body forward to beg for more.

“Should have known you weren’t the innocent type. Should have taken one look at you kitten and realised how dirty you were.” Jack's thumbs ran along the underside of his pectorals. He pulled Rhys off his lap then stripped himself entirely. With a devilish grin he yanked on one side of Rhys’ restraint to hoist him up higher. “Won’t you be good for me, sweetheart?”

He reached down to smear the precome leaking from his curved cock head down the thick body of his member. Rhys nodded enthusiastically to whatever Jack was saying. His own cock weeping and hard against his belly. He rutted against the air hoping for even a small bit of friction.

Jack stopped his teasing after a bit. He licked a long stripe down his hand then palmed his dick more fully.

“Ready dirty boy?”

“Yes Jack! Please Jack! I need it Handsome Jack!” Rhys babbled and verbally worshipped the older man.

“Heh. Ya nasty.” Jack winked then slid his cock between Rhys’ thighs. It throbbed hot and chaffed terribly without real lube and Rhys wanted so much more of it. Jack gripped his hair and began to rock slowly forward and back. Occasionally the top of his penis would brush the underside of Rhys’ straining balls, almost giving him the relief he so, so badly needed.

The heat was coiling tighter and tighter inside Rhys, but Jack still wouldn’t touch him or let up. He panted and thrust erratically between smooth, long legs.

“You ready to come, princess?” Jack circled a thumb around a nipple, flicking it harshly on every other thrust. Rhys told he was ready, had been ready, been good, so good for him, will be good for him, to please let him come.

His pleas were eaten up as Jack devoured his mouth again. Absently he heard something snap, but ignored it because the heady taste was back and mixing gloriously with the heat between his legs. Jack peeled off then left one last peck to red, swollen lips. His thrusts stilled and his voice was quiet command.

“Want to be even better for me, Rhysie?”

Rhys stared at him, bewildered and lost. Eventually he gave a slow nod. Jack rewarded him with a biting kiss. Then punished him by wrapping another leather restraint around his privates. He cried as the buckle cinched down tight. Jack paid that no mind as he finally freed Rhys’ arm. The jumpsuit fell free off his arm finally and he collapsed boneless into Jack. He felt as solid as a brick wall and as wonderfully warm as a furnace.

With his sweat slick hand free Rhys reached between them to undo the belt. His hand was smacked away and Jack waggled his finger.

“Not yet.” He leaned back against the wall and pulled Rhys down to follow by his throat. He didn’t stop his forceful guide until his heavy cock was pressed against Rhys’ cheek.

“Jack please.”

“Don’t disappoint me now Rhys.” He thrust up a point to refocus Rhys. After a few moments he gave in and opened his mouth to let Jack slide inside roughly.

“That’s it, my special boy, that’s it.” Rhys desperately tried to breathe through his nose and not gag as Jack’s bruising pace in and out was back. “God look at you. Ready to do whatever I say. Oh yeah that’s the ticket. That engine scrambled that empty head of yours just right.” He gripped either side of Rhys’ face as he face fucked him over and over again.

Jack’s entire body shook, his hips stuttering. He continued to babble about how suggestive Rhys was, how susceptible he was, how easily he could be reprogrammed. Or maybe, Jack wondered aloud while hitting the back of Rhys’ throat, that him being such an easy bitch was just who Rhys was.

With a desperate howl ripped from throat, Jack came hard. His sensitive dick spasming and spilling his salty come down into Rhys’ empty stomach.

Panting he reached under and pulled off the belt restraint around the younger man’s cock and balls. Jack pulled out of the abused mouth and traced the path he had come down. He raised his large hand back up then wrapped lazy fingers fingers around Rhys’ neck.

“Make yourself come, Rhysie.” He demanded casually. Rhys grabbed his dick harder than he normally would, but right now that’s what he wanted, _needed _. He stared up into Jack’s eyes as he stroked up and down and was so close to the edge.__

“Who am I?” Jack squeezed his neck hard.

“Handsome Jack!” Rhys answered in a wheeze.

“Who’s your hero?” He squeezed harder and dark spots began to appear in Rhys’ vision.

“Handsome Jack!”

“And who” Jack let up the pressure just a little bit. “do you goddamn belong to?”

“ _Handsome Jack _!” Rhys cried as his orgasm tore through him. He distantly felt a hand pet his hair and praise him. Then for awhile Rhys didn’t feel anything at all.__

 

 

They didn’t really talk when he finally came to. Jack was up and dressed already. He pointedly jerked a thumb to the door. Rhys stiffly put his jumpsuit back on then hobbled over.

There was no one in the barracks, paddocks, or dorms as Jack led them around. He casually mentioned another special elevator they could use and there was a shortcut through the church. Jack had never led him wrong before so Rhys followed.

The church was on fire and patients were throwing themselves screaming onto a central pyre. When Rhys hesitated to go through a burning building Jack rolled his eyes and dragged him forward. Rotting flesh bubbled and burnt hair stained the air.

Rhys tried to put it out his mind as they made it through and into a small theatre showing a documentary on a loop. It told of the original Project Paperclip back in the 40’s and Dr. Wernicke who championed the ghastly research.

When Jack walked past it bored. Rhys tried to do the same. They turned a corner and… was in the front desk lobby. He could even see his old desk and Vasquez’s pompous office chair throne. More importantly the open front door was right there.

“Jack we made it.” He breathed in awe. Jack hummed noncommittally. He slid open the panel next to the lift doors and began to key in a code. “we could leave right now.”

Jack stood up and looked at him incredulously. “Before we destroy these people? I don’t think so. I keyed the lift so we can go straight down to the main lab.” He pried the gate open and looked up and down. “Now where is it?”

Rhys was backing away.

“Jack I’m gonna leave. We have to leave – the door is right there!” He tried again, but Jack grabbed his arm.

“No we don’t! What we need to do is record all the evidence we can with that fancy eye of yours. Armed with that and destroying them will be fun and easy!” He tugged Rhys back towards the lift doors.

“Like I’d let that happen.” A voice cut through the struggle. Jeremy Blair himself now stood between them and the door to the outside. “No one can know! No one!” He pointed a gun. “I was saving this for Park, but I think this last bullet should go to one of you.”

“ _You _.” Jack said with utter contempt. “I remember you.” Mr. Blair finally seemed to see Jack fully as well because his eyes opened wide with disbelief.__

“You know him?” Rhys asked. His arm was held up in a pacifying way towards the guy with the gun even though Jack was probably more dangerous with just his bare hands.

“Yup. Hyperion bought out this little two bit operation and thought we could test new guns on the crazies.” He slowly stalked forward undeterred by the gun. “But when we arrived to check this place out they thought they could just make my daughter and I disappear!”

He lunged and forced Mr. Blair to pull the trigger while it was pressed into his own side. The shot echoed through Rhys’ bones and out the tantalizingly close front door.

“Speaking of,” Jack continued while punctuating his point with sharp kicks Mr. Blair’s open wound. “Where” kick “is” kick “my” kick “daughter!?” All Mr. Blair did was scream at the onslaught. His howls mixed with another source. Rhys activated his ECHOeye before it came online by itself again.

It informed him of Jack’s elevated blood pressure and heart rate. It cheerily read off that Mr. Blair had twenty minutes left to live. It highlighted that the lift cable was broken.

It revealed the Walrider descending down upon Jack.

“Look out!” He pushed Jack out of the way and sent Mr. Blair rolling towards the front door. Rhys was grabbed by the Walrider and levitated high into the air. The shadowy cloud felt like sand and millions of fleas biting into his skin.

“Rhys!” Jack tried firing the gun but found it completely empty. He threw it in frustration, but it bounced harmlessly off the Walrider’s pseudo-body. Rhys looked down at him. They locked eyes and shared a millisecond look where Rhys begged Handsome Jack to please save him.

Then the millisecond was over and Rhys was thrown down the long and empty dark of the deep elevator shaft.


	3. Madness Frequency

It took a small eternity to fall. Rhys screamed and screamed until his voice was hoarse and his vocal cords torn ragged. His sweaty hand was useless. Slapping and sliding whatever he could brush his fingers against. His organic eye teared up with the cold, stale air whipping harshly into his face.

He couldn't die. Not here. Rhys wouldn't let this hellhole swallow him up. If he could just _do_ anything.

"D- do- do-" A distorted voice flickered in and out. High and full of static. It pierced through his left temple. "Understand?"

"What?" Rhys answered back reflexively.

"U- understand why? We- I- I had to- !" It felt like a demonic force was burning through his head. It undulated in clarity. "You don- don't know him! I'm not- not- not afraid of- anymore!" The static spiked with a roar. Rhys gripped his hand over his eye. The voice took on a lower rumble.

"You don't have to be- to be!"

"Who is this?" Rhys tried to call out again. The static ignored him. It rose and dropped between the two pitches so quickly he couldn't decipher much. It seemed at war with itself. Fear versus revenge and death versus Jack(?). Rhys felt frustrated and ignored in what might be his final moments.

"Hey! I'm not gonna die here!"

"Then reach out." The high pitched voice was alone and very clear. "Right now!" His arm shot out and he clamped down _hard_. Rhys swung up on the rickety remains of a ladder before the responding momentum wrenched his arm from his socket. The rusted metal bar coming off with him.

The small eternity came to an end as he landed harshly on the joint, popping it painfully back in.

"Argh!!" His shredded vocal cords gave another go while he curled in on himself writhing on the ground. He rolled over and the ladder bar fell right onto his ECHOeye. The throbbing arm dulled the pain, but Rhys still screamed all the same as he felt it crack. Rhys spent a long time, maybe longer than the fall, laying there. He didn't try to move till he could think past the pulsating ache of his body.

Slowly, Rhys peeled himself off the blood-soaked floor of the basement lab. The entirety of the security detail he saw here earlier was dead. Torn kevlar mixed with shattered assault rifles and bones. He stepped over remains and shuffled his way through the ruined lobby. When the first crossroad came up, Rhys found himself really wishing he hadn't kept his head down earlier.

He wished he had done a lot of things different earlier.

The door to his left led him into an employee cafeteria. Rhys downed a flat soda and half a thing of chips. When he finished sucking the last of the grease and salt from his fingertips, he wandered through the door on his right.

"No way." He said to himself.

His prosthetic was perched up in a charging cradle. Rhys walked up slowly. It stayed right where it was the whole time. It didn't vanish just as he approached it. It didn't rise up in defiance as he lifted it up. It didn't even shoot him the finger as he slipped it on.

There was something caught in his throat as he watched his artificial fingers curl and flex like they did every day. He thumbed the wet corners of his eyes. Rhys couldn't help, but huff a small laugh at himself.

Some disembodied voice that had argued with _another_ disembodied voice helped him survive an impossible fall that he was pretty sure tossed him down in the first place and he was getting choked up over his own hand like it was a miracle.

Time to expand his list again. Small miracles now included beating Vaughn's high score, seeing his own stupid hand, and not having his skull crushed in by...

"Jack..." Rhys cradled his newly returned hand with his other one and idly traced the contours with his thumb.

 

His cracked eye whirred to life. By the time the Walrider's howling began to reverberate through the halls, Rhys was already moving. He ran through security checks, and ignored as the alarms blared. As he began to see the first inky shadows formed together, the young man made it through a decontamination chamber. 

He held his breath as the green gas flooded the small room and watched as the murderous shadow left him in frustration. When they finished hosing him down in hopefully non-carcinogenic chemicals, Rhys leapt out the doors.  Almost immediately the howling picked up again.  He turned behind him to try and spot it.  Sprinting down a different hallway was Jack.  But the Walrider was forming once again so Rhys had to run away instead.  

"Quickly! In here!" A high-security door slid open and Rhys fell inside. "Now who are you then, dear boy?" A very old voice asked. He propped himself up and saw a man who looked like he saw the invention of electricity at the very least. The man's skeletal hand pushed the wheelchair's control forward with a quivering touch.

"You're..." But Rhys had never seen this corpse of a man before. "Um..."

"Tschuldigung. It has been a very long time since I introduced myself to anyone. I'm Dr. Rudolph Wernicke." That sounded vaguely familiar. Wait.

"You were in that documentary upstairs!"

"Ja that was me. More importantly I'm the creator of Project Walrider." Rhys placed his palms flat against the glass separating them.

"You created that monster?"

"In a way yes. In a way no. It is better to say yes though."

"You're not making a lot of sense."  Rhys furrowed his brow. 

"I'm in the right place then, no?" His withered face twitched into a rough facsimile of a wry grin. "I always wondered why they never strapped me to the Engine." His eyes followed Rhys as the young man paced.

"Would that have worked?"  However this bullshit Engine was supposed to work.  

"Who knows? I don't exactly fit the two models of success we do have." He let out a shuddering breath and keyed in something along his wheelchair keypad. Two screens behind him lit up. "I use the term very loosely."

A man a few years younger than Rhys appeared on the screen to the left. He was snarling against the hold of a Murkoff security team.

"Billy Hope. I believe about... five minutes after he killed his mother." When Rhys looked back at the doctor, Wernicke continued. "She sold him to the corporation. He is the current host to the Walrider."

"God." Rhys breathed. He dragged his eyes away to look at the screen on his right. A young girl with beautiful blue eyes looked back. "Is that...?" He felt a weird sense of recognition as he looked those sad eyes.

"Angel." The doctor's face looked crestfallen as he said the name. "The very first host." He pulled up another screen to a live camera feed. Some guy Rhys also had never seen before was sprinting away from the Walrider.  Jack was in the background and clearly using the other man as Walrider bait.  

"Host to what? What is the Walrider?"

"A weaponized nanite swarm. It can be controlled when the user or host enters a stable lucid dream state."

"And you strapped a little girl to it."

"She was... a threat taken too far. Blair was frustrated with my continued refusal to let him test women with the Engine. I told him the results, but he never believed me. When she arrived with the Hyperion owner, it apparently was too tempting for him."

"You killed her." Rhys said with bile churning in his stomach.

"Nein, my dear boy. _She_ did." The video feed picked up. Angel was strapped in a complex series of wires and tubes. She looked so scared. In the background audio Mr. Blair was warning Jack that this too would be his fate if he disobeyed them. Jack roared back that he'd happily show these asshats real trouble if they didn't _stop this and let his daughter go_!

The Engine was activated and Angel took to it instantly. Her body locked up and her pupils contracted into sharp pinpricks. The camera feed cut to the large room that housed the Engine. A familiar, dark shadow formed above Angel's body. Its proportions more bird-like than its descendant. Cries of triumph quickly became shouts to _stop her_ and _baby no_! when the Walrider swooped down and crushed Angel's containment sphere.

When the chaos passed all that was left was torn wires and shattered glass.

"After that her consciousness disappeared into the system. Occasionally she would pop up to reject people from the system or find the renamed security protocol funny, but..." Dr. Wernicke drifted off. His eyes lost to a past he couldn't share.

"And... and what about Jack?"

"The Hyperion president? He refused to accept her death. Broke free several times trying to 'find' her." Rhys threw his hands in the air and paced even faster.

"So all this bullshit. All this failure and you guys kept going?!" Wernicke looked like he still wished his body could shrug.

"The Project continued out of desperation. Desperate for results outside two sane, children stuck together in a virtual playground. Desperate for any success. Desperate to keep all of this a secret."

Rhys halted. He pulled his hands from his hair. He looked up to that guy from earlier destroying Billy's life support. To the Walrider envelop Jack who had appeared to be trying to beat Billy's containment sphere in and lift him high above the ground.

"Why... are you telling me this?"

"My dear boy..." The doors opened up behind him and a squadron of soldiers marched in. "None of us deserve to leave here alive."

 

Miraculously he wasn't shot on sight. Rhys was ordered to remove Dr. Wernicke from his glass cell the both of them were ordered to move. By this point Rhys had become used to holding his arms up in surrender.

"Anyone else?" A soldier asked Wernicke.

"Ja, one more. Miles Upshore should be pulling the final plug now if that Hyperion bastard hasn't stopped him."

"Alright team. Tighten up! Form Alpha!" The squadron's captain made some hand signals Rhys didn't understand then he and Wernicke were separated. Wernicke was brought up to the cluster about to open the Engine room doors while Rhys was sequestered to the back.

The guy, Miles, was already limping towards them when the doors opened. He reached towards them with a bloody hand. His eyes pained and begging. Rhys had to be held back as they shot him.

Miles crumpled to the ground as the last of his strength was violently ripped from his body. Dr. Wernicke gasped.

"Gott im Himmel, you have become the new host."

Then Miles got back up. The nanite swarm took over his form. He and the cloud staggered forward. A section of the dark cyclone shot forward and tore several guards in half. Their bloody parts thrown out of the way.

The group surrounding Rhys launched forward and began to fire a coordinated counter attack, but with a flick of Mile's broken wrist they were reduced to red mist. A shredded torso struck him and Rhys was thrown to the ground. Dr. Wernicke wasn't looking much better as his life support kept beeping in and out.

"Rhys." The voice too high-pitched for the man in front of him. He used his ECHOeye to see past the buzzing machines. The man's face was looking at him kindly. "I killed him Rhys. I'm not sure if that's what I wanted, but it's what I did."

Rhys felt his heart lurch low into his stomach as the figure turned and pointed to the top of the Engine. The bone for the finger was protruding out. The voice dropped in pitch.

"It is what we wanted. We threw him in there and now you're free." He turned back to look down at Rhys, though he didn't return the gaze. "We all got what we want. Murkoff got their host with proximity to madness and we..." It patted Rhys' hair. He felt loose skin flop off and onto his head.

"We all get to be free. Sorry for earlier." The voice finished on a high-pitch and perfectly polite. He stayed kneeling on the ground as the body of Miles slowly shuddered past and away.

Dr. Wernicke's shuddering and shallow breaths held on for a few minutes after that. His life support emitted a shrill, atonal sound as he flat lined. Rhys was alone. Completely without audience or company for the first time in what felt like a year. He shakily stood and held his knocking knees with a wavering strength.

He padded into the Engine room and listened as his flat footfalls echoed. The one screen was still on and performing its task, but in front of it the containment sphere had filled up with blood. Occasionally what remained of Billy Hope's body would bump up listlessly against the side.

"Jack?" Rhys called out. The sound carried itself up and away. He shuffled a little bit closer to the middle. His body trembled so he brought his arms around his middle. The young man didn't think of much as he dazedly watched the static screen.

He thought of Vaughn. He thought of applying for a new job. He thought of taking a really nice bath or maybe a quick shower then a nice nap. Then he thought about Jack. About Jack being dead.

Finally he blinked forcefully and tore his eyes from the screen. Rhys could understand the appeal of being part of the Engine like this. To spacing out and letting the static pull him under. To let this machine dehumanize his mind then draw power from it.

The monstrous Engine continued to churn above him. He clenched his fist by his side. His eye scanned through the dark plating. To where Jack had apparently disappeared. There wasn't a body to be found. Just an unending ocean of nanites being produced then stored. Some would fly out to join their new host so quickly his ECHOeye could barely follow them.

"No one is safe. No one is exempt." Rhys said towards the top of the Engine . "When you said that did you mean to include yourself? Or I bet you thought the great and perfect Handsome Jack wasn't in the same category as us mortals." He gestured around to the rapid dilapidation and carnage.

"We ruined them. Go team. Three cheers to us and... and your daughter. Christ you had a daughter." The young man ran his prosthetic through his ruined hair. "May still have a daughter. So congrats on finding her?"

Rhys let his head fall into his hands. "Time to leave the looney bin, Rhys. You are confessing to a dead man." He straightened up and took a deep, steadying breath through his nose.

"I'm leaving now Jack. Thanks for getting me through what will probably be the darkest time in my life. Even if half of it was your fault. Points for trying." He pouted frustrated at the floor. "I don't know what else to say. I guess... you were a better hero than I thought. I loved those stories growing up. Dashing heros, tears that can heal people, and all that."

The lab doors were still open. The rotting stench from the bodies had only grown worse. Rhys looked over his shoulder one last time. "Goodbye Jack."

"Wow sad. Or gay. No no wait! It's both! Sad gay! You are a sad gay, Rhysie!"

No way in hell. Rhys felt his ECHOeye static and spark. His left temple buzzed.

"Jack!?" He spun around, but the older man wasn't anywhere to be seen. Still the man's boisterous voice persisted.

"Budge up, kiddo. I want in." The buzzing pressure grew and grew. He gripped over his eye, but his prosthetic kept twitching out. "Oh don't be like that, sweetheart. Wait! I can use this!"

Rhys mechanical hand twitched out a bit more then splayed open and up towards the top of the Engine. The pressure in his head stopped mounting higher, but never left.

A swarm of nanites shot up from the Engine's core. Then they descended down upon Rhys. Jack laughed triumphant as they covered every inch of the young man's body. The cracks in his eye tingled then fused together. His prosthetic arm felt like it was going to vibrate off. A thick layer of robots remained melded to the surface of his arm while another layer swirled about it. Angry hornets protecting their hive.

"Man I did not think I'd enjoy this empty head of yours, but Rhysie I gotta tell ya - this thing's deluxe!" Rhys felt like his skin was being pushed off his body. His organic arm wrapped tight around his person.  The maelstrom surrounding him twitched and flexed inside and out of his body.  Jack made him feel chilling sweat and burning fever all at once while playing jumprope with his brain's internal networking.  

Then the horrific feelings stopped. The buzzing became a low, steady thrum. He suddenly felt powerful.

"How's that working out for ya, tiger? Feeling pretty good, buddy?"

"I feel... awesome." Rhys tested the flex and grip strength of his hands. The nanite swarm around him pulsed in and out on every breath. "Unlimited."

"That's just want I wanted to hear!" Jack crowed. "Let's leave this place in style." The facility opened itself up to Rhys. Every electronic or digital anything was displayed before his eye. He smiled as he opened everything up. Mostly because he could. Confidently he strolled up to the open lift doors. Rhys didn't think twice before walking up on nanites forming stairs.  Mentally he did note that this was  _so cool_.  

Morning had come full and radiant through the front doors. Humming he remembered to pick up his phone at the front desk. Everyone in his friend group had left at least three messages and a phone call. Vaughn beat them all with at least forty-two messages and calls.

"Really Rhysie?" Jack asked while Rhys texted back. He casually basked in the warm early light while leaning on the front door frame.

"Just giving a bro of mine some heads up before we do anything." Rhys quickly finished and slipped his phone into his pocket.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw what appeared to be the entire population of the asylum coming out. Several fell to their knees upon seeing him. "I'm probably a douche for enjoying this, but I'm going to give my some leeway here. Trauma and all that."

"Yo Great Liberator, if you enjoy attention this much then let's find ourselves a much better audience."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Oh I have big plans for us, Rhys. Don't you doubt me for a second." They stepped out to enjoy the warmth of the new day completely. The last vestiges of stars dusting the far horizon.  Rhys took a deep breath and felt himself rise from the ground.

"Yeah, that'd be crazy." He couldn't imagine doubting himself or Jack ever again in that moment. Jack laughed, dark and delighted. It felt like he was cooing low and intimate to Rhys' ears.

"Oh ho kiddo. With any luck, I have the feeling this is going to be the start of something beautiful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the love and support!


End file.
